To Wed A Highlander (27 page)

“Remain calm and for God’s sake smile,” Makenna ordered herself as Laurel approached opening her arms wide. Makenna stepped into them and felt a genuine embrace. Instinct caused her to give one in return.

“My apologies for not greeting you properly. I had not been told that you had arrived or that Colin had left to meet you,” Makenna said apprehensively, wondering what Laurel must think of her and her abilities to be lady of a castle.

“Nonsense. I just arrived and the few minutes I was waiting let me view your home. I must say I am awed. I can never just walk across my courtyard without fear of running into someone or getting stabbed.”

“Stabbed?” Makenna asked, horrified.

“Exactly my sentiments,” Laurel answered, hoping to ease the fear and unease she saw in Makenna’s vivid green eyes. It was obvious Dunlop had spoken correctly. The young woman had a lot of pride in her keep, but also a lot of self-doubt. Laurel hooked her arm in Makenna’s and prompted them toward the great hall, continuing with her explanation. “Conor refuses to conduct all of his training with his men outside the castle walls. We finally agreed that most of his men would train elsewhere, but he still insists on ‘not wasting the space’ and allows contests to take place where ‘everyone can enjoy them.’ Now, I enjoy a good spar as well as the next woman—”

“You do?” Makenna interrupted.

“Of course, but not every day, and certainly not in a place that makes it difficult for people to do their work.” Laurel waited as Makenna ascended the steps to the great hall and opened the doors.

As Makenna stepped through the entrance, a shot of fear ripped through her. It subsided. The hearth was roaring and the rushes were still fresh. Incidents of sabotage had significantly diminished in the past few weeks, but they still occurred and usually where she least expected them.

Forcing her voice to remain steady, Makenna waved Laurel to one of the chairs situated by the main fireplace. “Can I offer you a drink or some food, milady?”

“No, thank you, and please call me Laurel. I really hate the title, and I doubt I will ever become accustomed to it.”

Makenna reassessed her sister-in-law. The woman might have many of Deirdre’s features, but her sensibility was vastly different. Based on her few short comments, Makenna wondered whether the woman’s nature was more like hers.

Laurel sank gracefully into the padded high-back chair reserved for family and special guests. “Your hall is splendid. Warm and inviting.” She pointed to the sunlight. “You must have a love-hate relationship with those enormous windows.”

Makenna’s eyes popped opened wide, for that was exactly how she felt about them. At that moment, Makenna decided to relax and be herself. She knew she would not be able to keep up the pretense of a lady fully in control of her castle and those around her for long, so she might as well stop now and conserve her energy for the next catastrophe. “Aye, I often think they mock me,” she replied, slipping into a cushioned chair beside her sister-in-law.

Laurel inhaled the scent of the new rushes and pointed at the rainbow of colors hitting the tapestries hanging across from the arched stained glass windows. “Those are lovely and complement the room well.”

Makenna sucked in her breath and decided to plunge forward with the truth. It would be best to divulge now her limitations. “They have been there my entire life, just as most of the castle’s decorations,” she commented quietly.

Laurel smiled. “Blessed are those that come before us, for they do make our lives easier, do they not? Can you imagine preparing for winter
and
having to adorn our homes? I do not think it possible.”

Makenna twisted in her chair and openly appraised Laurel once again. This time she decided to say exactly what was on her mind. “You don’t know me, and yet you speak as if we are old friends.”

Laurel sighed, but instead of conveying irritation with Makenna’s bluntness, she exuded relief. “I’ll have to remember to thank God in my prayers this evening for giving Colin a wife like you. I have a tendency to be unbearably forward and honest, and I made a promise to myself not to be that way with you. I was going to try to be everything a proper lady should be. Complimentary, friendly, and talkative about nothing. I can’t believe I failed so miserably so quickly.”

Makenna tried to swallow her laughter, but could not. “You didn’t fail, I did! If my sisters were here, you would be stuck here hours and hours learning about those damned tapestries, how the colors were chosen, and the difficulty and skill needed to complete each and every stitch. Trust me, I know.”

“Oh, what a pair we make. If Conor came in right now, he would probably hang his head down and sigh with defeat,” Laurel said haltingly as she joined Makenna in fits of ill-repressed giggles.

“Oh, it feels good to laugh. I never thought I would say this, but I am glad you came.”

Laurel sat forward and smiled, no longer wondering why Colin asked her to come. Makenna needed an understanding female friend. “Do you know what I would love to do right now?”

“What?” Makenna asked, very curious to know what Laurel was thinking.

“I know this sounds completely crazy as I have been on a horse for days now, but you have no idea the infuriatingly slow pace we were going. It was maddening. For the past two days, I have wanted to ride like wind. Will you join me?”

Makenna hesitated and then nodded. “I’ll have to find Brodie or Gorten first. I promised Colin that I would no longer leave the castle walls without my guards.”

“You, too? I think Conor would be happiest if I were surrounded everywhere I went. He’s getting better, but the man practically defines overprotection.”

“Ha! Has your husband ever snatched you off a horse you were riding perfectly safe upon because of an irrational idea that you might fall off?” Makenna asked, snaking her way through the great hall to the large wooden doors.

Laurel followed Makenna outside. “That is bad, but wait until Colin orders a hundred men as escort when you come to visit us in the Highlands. Then you will see what I mean.”

Makenna swung around and shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun. “Good Lord, is that true?”

Laurel followed Makenna inside the stable. “Unfortunately, yes. And I love Conor so much that I pretended not to notice.”

Makenna sent two of the stabled lads for their guards and moved to prepare her brown mare. Laurel’s gray stallion was still bridled and enjoying some fresh hay in a stall.

“Come on, boy,” Laurel said, encouraging Borrail back out into the open. “This time I promise you we will run until we tire.”

Makenna helped the stable master bridle her horse and then waited with Laurel in the outer yard for her guard.

“Makenna!” came a gravelly voice behind her. Immediately, she knew who it was.

“Camus! How are you?”

Camus drew her in his arms and whispered quickly in her ear, “The item you requested is nearly finished. Give me a few more days for polishing, and it will be complete.”

“Thank you,” Makenna returned and then pulled back. “Laurel, please let me introduce to you the finest sword smith in Scotland. Camus, this is Lady McTiernay, Conor’s wife.”

Laurel beamed him a smile that showed true interest and appreciation for such a skill. “Please call me Laurel.”

“Aye, Laurel, I think I will. That is a fine dirk you are wearing, and my guess is that you are quite proficient with it.”

Laurel shrugged. “Some would say I have skill, others would say I need more practice.”

Laughing, Camus waved good-bye just as Gorten and Brodie and two other men under Conor’s command approached. Soon all six of them were free of the castle, the town, and its walls.

For an hour, they rode along the river and across the hills. Sensing each other’s readiness to stop, Makenna and Laurel slowed down near a brook so that the horses could drink.

Gorten met with Laurel’s guards, who agreed to stay back and give the two women privacy. Then he moved beside Brodie, whose brown eyes were filled with concern. “Was it just me, or was Lady Makenna riding with more restraint than normal?”

Gorten nodded brusquely. “Aye, and with much more care. At first, I thought her companion was slowing their gait. Now I am not so sure.”

“Maybe she’s afraid the laird will snatch her off her horse again.”

“Possible,” Gorten murmured, full of skepticism.

Laurel stroked the gray neck of her large friend. “There now, Borrail, was that not fun?”

Makenna slid off her mare and allowed the animal to drink and move about freely. She looked back and wrinkled her nose in disgust. No longer were there just four soldiers overseeing their safety but almost two dozen. Picking up a rock, she threw it into the brook and then sat down on the yellowing but still thick grass. Makenna arched her back and took in a deep breath. “It is so good to get out of those depressing walls. When I leave, I feel like an enormous weight has been taken off of me.”

Laurel joined her on the ground. She picked some nearby fall wildflowers and spun them in her fingers. “And when you return?”

“I just want to leave again. Is that not awful? Those are my people, my clan, and yet they seem so foreign to me. I both love and loathe them at the same time.” Makenna lay down and stared at the sky. “You probably think I am being ridiculous.”

Laurel didn’t know what to say. Lochlen was so very different from McTiernay Castle. The McTiernays were a loud, welcoming bunch that greeted guests with smiles. On the other hand, she was very familiar with the push, pull feeling Makenna was experiencing. “On the contrary, I quite understand.”

Makenna angled her head to see if Laurel was serious. “You mean…”

“No, no. McTiernay Castle is, well, very different from Lochlen, just as it is very different from the home I grew up in.”

“Colin says that you are English, yet you speak Scot very well.”

Laurel threw her flower into the breeze and watched it float away. “I’m half English and grew up not far from here in the Cheviot Hills of Northumberland. Most of the people speak Scot or something very similar. You have to go much farther south toward London to hear pure English.”

“Your English home, was it very bad?”

Laurel studied the folds in her gown. “Not when my mother was alive. Then it was warm and welcoming.”

“Isn’t it odd how one person can both add life to a home and take it away?”

Laurel nodded and picked another flower. “When she passed away, my father grieved terribly and kept himself distant from my stepbrother and me. I think my father mourned my mother until he died. It was like his grief permeated the walls, affecting all who walked them.”

Makenna searched Laurel’s face. “Is that why you left?”

“If things hadn’t changed, I don’t think I would have stayed. However, it was my brother, Ainsley, who actually initiated my leaving. He decided to marry the eldest daughter of our wealthy neighbor. I was clearly unwanted, and his attempts to marry me off were quite unsuccessful.”

Makenna considered that briefly. “I cannot imagine it would be hard to arrange a marriage to you. You are very beautiful.”

“Ah, well, Ainsley had little inclination to put down a dowry, and let’s just say I had little inclination to be ladylike when being introduced to prospective husbands,” Laurel answered, her voice laced with false innocence.

Makenna giggled at the thought and hugged her knees. “What did you do?”

“I left,” Laurel said softly, her mirth disappearing as she remembered her brother’s words of disownership the day she departed.

Makenna recognized the sadness in Laurel’s voice. “So you do understand about not being wanted by your own people.”

Laurel let go the blossom and wiped her hands on her bliaut. “In a way, but your situation is different. Only my brother made me feel unwelcome, and secondly, I am not at all positive that your people want you gone. On the contrary, I think the majority of them think very highly of you. Lochlen is well run and organized. You should have seen McTiernay Castle when I first came upon it. Nightmare is a soft way to describe such mayhem. And when I tried to help…well, you should have heard the rows Conor and I had. The man is very touchy about my making decisions he feels are only his to make.”

Makenna gave Laurel a challenging look. “Ha! I have met your Conor, and he was most agreeable and forthcoming compared to Colin. Sometimes I wonder if my husband actually
works
at making the most simple of conversations difficult. And his
pride,
his infuriating pride! It drives everything he does and says!”

“I know someone else with a significant dose of pride,” Laurel squealed as she threw some wildflowers at Makenna and then quickly moved to avoid the revenge attack.

Gorten and Brodie stared at the two women rolling in the grass laughing and throwing weeds and plants on each other whenever they got the chance. “Whatever are they doing?” Brodie asked incredulously.

“I don’t know,” Gorten replied. “But it is good to hear our lady laugh and be herself again. I didn’t know if another Highlander staying at Lochlen was a good decision, but I am beginning to realize just how shrewd our laird is in all things, including his wife.”

Laurel blew stray pieces of grass off her mouth and sat up. “If Conor could see me now, he’d think the southern air has addled my brains.”

Makenna stood up and started brushing off the evidence of their momentary lapse in decorum. “Just tell him it was all Colin’s fault.”

“Colin’s fault?” Laurel questioned as she rose fluidly and began to remove loose grass from Makenna’s back.

“Aye, I am sure it was talk of his pride that led you to attack me.”

“No, it was talk of
your
pride,” Laurel argued, turning around so that Makenna could brush away any remnants of their merriment. “I saw your face when you entered the great hall and all was in order.”

“Good Lord, it will take a year to pluck this stuff out of your hair,” Makenna murmured. “That wasn’t pride. That was sheer relief. I didn’t want your first sight of Lochlen to be of the truth. Things are bad, Laurel. Very bad. I have less than half the staff needed to maintain a home of Lochlen’s size. My efforts to maintain the castle and prepare for winter are continually being sabotaged by my own clan.”